Raise the Lion Banner
by shrinni
Summary: It should have been Harry, the Chosen One. It should have been Hermione, the smartest witch of her generation. It never should have been Ron, but he was the only one left who could set things right. A time-travel/redo story.
1. Going Home

_Summary: It should have been Harry, the Chosen One. It should have been Hermione, the smartest witch of her generation. It never should have been Ron, but he was the only one left who could set things right. A time-travel/redo story._

**Disclaimer: **This story in not written for profit of any kind, and is therefore protected under the Fair Use Doctrine. Or something.

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**Raise the Lion Banner**

**Chapter 1 – Going Home**

Ron Weasley placed the last crystal around the circle drawn in chalk and glanced at the parchment in his hand. Grimacing, he placed the parchment aside, drew a silver dagger from his robes, and slashed it across his forearm. He let the blood drip into a bowl at his feet for several minutes then healed his arm with a muttered spell. Taking up a paintbrush he began to draw runes inside his circle with his own blood, glancing frequently at the parchment on the ground to check his work.

As he painted, he couldn't help but think back on the past year. How could it all have gone so wrong? Harry dead, Hogwarts leveled, England in ruins, and Hermione…

Ron choked back tears at the thought of Hermione. The death of everyone else he knew had receded into a numbness that he could deal with, but Hermione's death was so recent it was a raw wound that he couldn't heal or ignore.

Ron stopped painting and put the brush down before he could smudge any of the runes. Any mistakes and he would have to wait a month for the new moon to return, and every day his chances of successfully eluding the Death Eaters grew smaller. He closed his eyes and took a few shaky breaths. He had to finish the ritual, and once he did he would see Hermione again.

Feeling calmer, he picked up the brush and finished painting the runes that lined the chalk circle. As he finished the last rune, the crystals surrounding him began to glow, lighting up the shack he was currently using as a hideout. He shoved the parchment in his pocket and withdrew the last, critical, piece to the ritual: a time-turner that Hermione had kept in her bottomless beaded bag. Ron wasn't sure how she has acquired it – he'd forgotten to ask before it was too late.

There was no more time to hesitate, no time to worry that he had done something wrong, or that he might have completed Hermione's calculations incorrectly. Ron gathered his Gryffindor courage and threw down the time-turner into the center of the circle, shattering it at his feet. A soft gold light filled the circle, blinding him in its intensity. The magic in the circle pushed in on him, like the pressure he used to feel swimming in the pond at the Burrow when he would dive down and try to touch the bottom.

Ron pointed his wand at his heart and whispered the spell Hermione created, that would send him back to the summer after his 5th year at Hogwarts. The time when he could make a difference and maybe, maybe avert the apocalypse.

"_Tempus Resumptum!_"

The golden light became even more intense and Ron felt his ears pop. He had a fleeting second to hope that he had done everything right. _If there is any kind of benevolent power out there, let me fix this. Let me save them._

Then, darkness.

**End Chapter 1**

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**Notes: **I'm a big fan of redo fics, I think they're fun. But it's always Harry (or sometimes Hermione) that goes back, so I wondered what would happen if _Ron_ was the one that went back in time – and this story idea was born. This story will be canon-compliant up to the final duel between Harry and Voldemort in Book 7. I don't have my books with me a lot of the time, so I'll be using the Harry Potter Lexicon to stay as accurate as possible.


	2. Mistakes Were Made

**Raise the Lion Banner**

**Chapter 2 – Mistakes Were Made**

"Ron! Can you hear me? RON!"

_Five more minutes._ Ron thought and tried to roll over… but his body wouldn't move, reminding him of what he had just done.

He felt like a tremendously heavy blanket was pressing down on him; he was utterly, completely exhausted and couldn't figure out why. The ritual took more power the further back the caster was trying to go, which is why Hermione had insisted that they should go back no further than three years – to the summer after their 5th year. If they collapsed from magical exhaustion it would draw unwanted attention and the planned three year jump shouldn't have been more severe than a particularly intense workout.

"Ron, please wake up! Open your eyes, Ron!"

Someone was calling his name, and she sounded utterly panicked. It would really be rude to keep her waiting, especially when she sounded so familiar.

Ron cracked open an eye and saw a red-headed girl nearly nose-to-nose with him with tears streaming down her cheeks. With a small groan he opened his other eye too. "Ginny?"

Ginny threw herself on his chest and wrapped her arms around him, causing him to "Oof" weakly in protest. "Ron! You're awake! I was so scared!"

Ron felt his eyes grow moist, and it was lucky he was too tired to react more strongly. Otherwise it would have been impossible to hide the heartache he was feeling seeing his baby sister alive again. She had been one of the many fatalities of the battle for Hogwarts, and Ron had never found out how she had died. Imagining various gruesome ways it could have happened had caused endless nightmares. Despite his overwhelming joy, something about Ginny seemed… off.

Ginny raised her head off his chest and noticed his tears. "Oh, am I hurting you? I'm so sorry!" and she pushed herself off him.

"S'okay." Ron mumbled. He tried to reach up and touch Ginny's face, but couldn't manage more than a twitch. Suddenly he noticed how young Ginny looked and realized what was wrong.

As if noticing Ginny's age were a trigger, memories started coming to him. He could remember playing hide and seek with Ginny just as clearly as painting his own blood in the ritual circle. Like braiding two strings together, Ron's most recent memories of the future and the present twisted together. He remembered running up to Ginny to tag her, and then feeling something slam into him and knock him off his feet before he blacked out.

Ron Weasley was only ten years old. He had made a mistake, that's why he was so tired. Instead of a draining three-year jump, he had somehow managed to power a jump back nearly nine years. It was a wonder he was even conscious.

All his plans, all his contingencies were totally useless now. He needed to create a new plan, and he needed to get back on his feet.

"Ginny, can you get me something?" Ron tried not to make a face at how odd his voice sounded to his ears – had his voice really been so high before puberty?

Ginny sniffled and nodded. "Of course. Should I go get mum?"

"No!" Ron tried to shout, but it came out more like a wheeze. "I need… potions out of mum's cabinet. Do you know what a Strengthening Solution or a Pepper-Up Potion looks like?"

Ginny bit her lip. "I can recognize a Pepper-Up potion, but not the other one."

"I think I'm going to need both." Ron paused, trying to recall what a Strengthening Solution looked like. "It's a purple-red potion, really thick. It'll be labeled too. Think you can you grab them without mum noticing?"

Ginny nodded and jumped to her feet. "I'll be right back, don't worry!"

Ron listened to his sister's footsteps recede into the distance, hoping that she wouldn't be caught. If their mum saw Ron like this – unable to move, suffering from severe magical exhaustion – she'd whisk him off to St. Mungo's in a heartbeat. With no ready excuse for his condition Ron couldn't run the risk of some sharp Healer getting a little too nosy and detecting the magical signature of a time-turner; Hermione had been confident it would be noticed if anyone looked closely enough. With the amount of magic Ron had used it would take weeks for it to fade completely.

Sure, there were definite advantages to going so far back in time, but at the same time the risk was much greater too. In a time of peace aberrant behavior or strange occurrences would stand out much more strongly than against the backdrop of You-Know-Who's resurrection. Ron had more time to fix things, but first and foremost he needed to avoid attention from anyone that could guess what he had done.

It wasn't well known, but "severe time manipulation" carried a sentence of death by Dementor's Kiss. Light or Dark, wizards feared the consequences of meddling with time. Who knew what would happen if some moron went and screwed it up?

Of course, that fear was only a large one if you thought that Fate controlled you; and that messing with someone's destiny would bring about dire consequences. Hermione thought that was a load of bunk, and had tried to explain her reasoning to Ron using a lot of unfamiliar words like "multiverse". Ron just thought all the hand-wringing about Fate sounded an awful lot like Trelawney, which automatically made him doubt it.

That didn't make getting caught any less dangerous.

Ron blinked slowly, absently watching the leaves on the orchard trees above him. He had to think of something to tell Ginny, something that would make him guilty enough to explain not telling their mum, but not so outrageous that it was unbelievable. What could a ten-year-old get up to that would drain all their magical reserves?

Ron's musings were interrupted by the sound of rapid footsteps, and a few seconds later Ginny popped back into his field of vision.

"There are people from the Ministry here! They knocked on the front door while I was sneaking out the back – it's the accidental magic reversal squad!"

Ron said a word that caused Ginny to slap his arm. "Please Ginny, help me drink the potions!"

Looking rebellious, Ginny dropped to her knees and uncorked the first vial. She tilted his head up and put the vial to his mouth, pouring it slowly. "Ronald Bilius, you are going to explain everything to me when this is over."

Ron felt steam start to billow out his ears, and hoped it would stop before the Ministry wizards found him. It would be easier to lie if they didn't know he had already taken potions - that he should really look at lot worse. Ginny finished pouring the second potion down his throat, and Ron felt vigor return to his limbs. He pushed himself awkwardly to a sitting position. In the distance, he heard his mum calling their names. His time was running out.

"Ginny," he said urgently, "I'm going to tell them I tried to do a spell. Play along?"

Ginny stared at him for a long moment, during which they could hear their mum's voice getting closer. Finally she nodded, and shoved something into his hand.

Ron looked down. "Ginny, how did you get mum's _wand_?"

Despite the gravity of the moment Ginny grinned. "I nicked it this morning. I was going to try the Bat-Bogey Hex again."

Ron smothered his laughter, not wanting to draw the adults to him. "All right, stand back for a mo'. I have to make this look real." Ginny backed away, and Ron carefully pointed the wand away from both her and the direction of the Burrow. "_Expecto Patronum!_" He incanted quietly, with just enough force for the wand to register the attempt, but not enough to actually cast it. The effort sapped him of much of his potion-induced energy, but since he wasn't flat on his back again he thought it was well worth it.

"Is steam still coming out my ears?"

Ginny shook her head.

"Excellent. Remember, follow my lead." Ginny nodded. "Call for mum, sound really scared."

"Like I've just found you." nodded Ginny, who then raised her voice to a scream that threatened to rupture Ron's eardrums. "MUUUUUUUUUM!"

"Warn a bloke next time." Ron muttered, causing Ginny to grin at him again.

Molly Weasley and two wizards in official grey robes came barreling into view. "Ginny! Ron! What happened?"

Ron did his best to look embarrassed and held up the wand. "Wanted to scare Ginny," he said sheepishly. "I read a spell out of one of Charlie's books."

Mrs. Weasley drew herself up for what was sure to be an impressive telling-off, but was cut off by one of the Ministry wizards who extended a hand towards Ron. "Let me see that wand, young man."

Ron handed it over and the ministry wizard cast _prior incantato,_ causing a faint silver mist to come out of the wand and a faint feeling of happiness to wash over those assembled.

Both the Ministry wizards raised their eyebrows. "A Patronus charm, Mr. Weasley?" asked the wizard holding Mrs. Weasley's wand.

Ron felt his ears start to turn red – he'd never been a good liar. Hopefully now the tell-tale sign would be mistaken for embarrassment. "I didn't think it would be so hard."

The wizard smiled indulgently and turned to Mrs. Weasley. "Well, if he was happy when he tried to cast that would explain the surge we detected – even if the spell failed." He handed the wand to her. "He'll be tired for a day or so, but otherwise he should be all right – bed rest will fix him up just fine. He's still too young for a penalty, so I think we're done here."

Ron felt an irrational surge of resentment that the official was talking as if Ron weren't there, but sat on the emotion firmly. There was no point in raising a stink about it, after all the goal was to draw as little attention to himself as possible. On the other hand, a ten-year-old boy may well be expected to be rash even when the consequences of speaking up would be a higher probability of punishment.

While Ron dithered over whether or not he should complain, the ministry officials said their goodbyes and apparated away. As the twin _cracks_ echoed in the orchard, the three Weasleys were left staring at each other in silence for several seconds.

Finally Mrs. Weasley reached out and helped Ron to his feet. The world seemed to spin around Ron as all the blood rushed from his head. He gritted his teeth and did his best not to show how faint he felt, but his mum had always had an extra sense about someone feeling even the slightest bit off. She reached out and grabbed his chin, forcing Ron to look her in the eye.

"Ronald?"

Ron's breath hitched. With the immediate danger of discovery gone, it really hit Ron that his mum was there, alive, in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to throw himself at her, to weep for everything he'd lost, to pretend things would be all right as long as he was safe in her arms. It took every drop of his willpower to keep his hands at his sides and his eyes clear.

"I'm just a bit dizzy, Mum." He said, voice a husky with repressed emotion.

Mrs. Weasley turned his face from side to side, searching his face for something. Ron couldn't say if she found what she was looking for – several emotions flickered across her face but too quickly for him to identify. Finally she released his chin and took him gently by the upper arm. "To bed with you. Come along Ginny."

They walked back to the Burrow at what Mrs. Weasley probably thought was an easy pace but in Ron's current state was brutal. He didn't dare complain, not wanting to give any extra clues to his true weakness. By the time they reached the kitchen door Ron was nearly panting with effort.

It was lucky then, that Mrs. Weasley didn't look at him closely but gave him a little push towards the stairs. "Straight to bed with you, young man." She said briskly.

Ron reached the staircase without wobbling too much, but as he put his hand on the railing his curiosity overcame him and he looked back. Mrs. Weasley was standing in the middle of the sitting room, staring at him with her hands on her hips.

"You… you're not going to yell at me?" He asked tentatively.

Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth and drew in a sharp breath, "I will not-" she seemed to change her mind about what she wanted to say, and took a steadying breath. "I will not be shouting at you just yet. But don't you think you aren't in a lot of trouble for doing something so dangerous!" She turned on her heel and marched into the kitchen. "To bed! Now!" she called over her shoulder.

Ron turned back to go up the stairs, but stopped when he caught Ginny's eye. She stood behind the couch with one hand on its back, and stared at him with surprising intensity for a nine-year-old. He mouthed "Later" at Ginny, and began the long ascent to his room.

By the time he reached the fifth landing Ron was gasping for breath and supporting most of his weight on the railing. Vision going grey around the edges, he pushed open his door and was too tired to even remove his shoes as he collapsed on the bed.

_I'll make plans tomorrow._ Was his last thought before sleep claimed him.

**End Chapter 2

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**Notes**: I had this chapter mostly done before I posted the first chapter, future updates will not be this prompt. Apologies.


	3. Time to Think

**Raise the Lion Banner**

**Chapter 3 – Time to Think**

Clank… clank… clank…

_The suits of armor fell one by one with a loud clatter as the magic animating them dissipated. _

_Still in shock, Ron whipped his head around and saw the slumped body of Professor McGonagall. Her glassy eyes were fixed on Harry's body, her expression was one of disbelief. Behind her a masked Death Eater was frozen with his wand in the air, seemingly shocked by his own audacity. The sound of the collapsing suits of armor shook the Great Hall back to life, and You-Know-Who laughed as people in the crowd started to scream and the sun rose on a nightmare dawn…_

Ron opened his eyes and took a shaky breath in the dark of his room. He didn't usually have nightmares about the past – generally when he dreamed at all his subconscious brought up odd abstract horrors to entertain him. Though he thought of the fall of Hogwarts often, he wasn't sure why he would dream of it.

Clank… clank… clank…

Ron looked up at the ceiling and swore softly. The family ghoul was up in the attic banging pipes. It had generally woke him at least once each night whenever he slept at the Burrow, and the sound had never reminded him of anything… but now it sounded eerily similar to the hollow noise the school suits of armor had made when they collapsed on that horrible morning.

Tossing his sweaty blankets aside, Ron glanced at his clock – 3:26 am. He'd been asleep for more than 15 hours, and he was starving. He turned on the lamp and light flooded the room, giving the room and orange glow that was only magnified by the Chuddly Cannon posters hung all over the walls.

Ron sat up and swung his feet off the bed, hesitating a second before pushing to his feet. The room spun around him, but not as badly as he'd feared. He decided he wasn't in imminent danger of collapse, and it was worth the risk to make his way to the kitchen for more potions and some food.

Halfway down the stairs Ron was regretting his choice as his legs nearly gave out for the third time. He decided his dignity wasn't as important as avoiding discovery and sat down to inch his way down the stairs one slow step at a time. A few steps creaked alarmingly as he made his laboriously down, each time he paused until he was certain no one had woken.

It seemed to take forever but finally Ron reached the ground floor. He climbed wearily to his feet and stumbled to the medicine cabinet. It took a minute to find the right vials, and Ron felt weaker with every second. Gasping with relief, he pulled the corks out of a pair of vials (Pepper-Up Potion and Strengthening Solution again) and downed them in one swallow. Steam poured out his ears, and he felt nearly normal, and twice as hungry as before.

Ron pulled out bread, cheese, and some leftover soup, poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice and sat down gratefully at the kitchen table. He ate with concentrated intensity for several minutes until the growling in his stomach quieted, then began picking at his food as he thought.

He needed a plan; that was clear. Everything Ron and Hermione had talked about before she died centered on the idea that they would be going back to the summer after fifth year. Hermione knew the title of a potions book with a potion that would obscure the Trace for two hours for whoever drank it. Then they could sneak out to Grimmauld Place and find Slytherin's locket before Mundungus Fletcher did. Then they were going to kill the Lestranges so that Bellatrix's vault would be inherited by either Harry or Narcissa (as Harry was Sirius' heir they hoped it would default to him, but were gloomily certain Bellatrix's will would send everything to the Malfoys… unless she had been too insane to write one)…

And so on, and so on. They had decided they probably wouldn't be in time to save Dumbledore from the curse on the ring, but at least that particular horcrux would be destroyed without interference. And once they went back to Hogwart's for their sixth year, it would be simple to collect Ravenclaw's diadem and to smash the Vanishing cabinet and throw it away so that Draco Malfoy would never repair it.

But now, Ron had gone back too far and without Hermione to help him. All the plans were worthless, and all that he had of value was knowledge.

_I need to write things down._

Ron finished his soup put his dishes in the sink, then grabbed some extra parchment and crept back to his room. He grabbed the dressing gown by the bed and put it on while doing a quick survey of his room. Where to hide his plans where no one would find them? Fred and George were especially good at finding his stuff, the Chocolate Frogs he had wanted to keep to himself, or the diary he had kept for a short while when he was seven.

Harry had told him Ron once that he kept all the things he wanted hidden under a loose floorboard in his room, and it was perfect because no one knew the space was there. Smiling at the memory, Ron began checking his floor for something similar. Finally he found what he needed underneath the wastebasket – a loose floorboard that didn't _look_ loose, that had enough space underneath for books and parchment.

Satisfied that his secrets would be as safe as he could make them, Ron sat at his desk, loaded his quill with ink, and began to write.

First, he wrote everything he could remember about all of the horcruxes, including Nagini (who wasn't one yet). He filled a whole roll of parchment and at the very bottom wrote: _What happened to Harry in the Forbidden Forest?_

Ron bit his lip and stared at the parchment, then sighed and wrote: _Is Harry a horcrux?_

He didn't think so. Hermione had been convinced, based on what she had overheard before Harry and You-Know-Who dueled for the last time. They had never come to an agreement over what it would mean if Harry were a horcrux. Hermione was convinced that there had to be a way to exorcise the piece of You-Know-Who's soul without sacrificing Harry. Ron mostly refused to consider the possibility that Harry was a horcrux – despite everything, Harry was just too normal to hold an evil soul-piece in him.

But Hermione thought it was possible, so on the parchment it went.

Setting the first roll of parchment aside, Ron stretched and then started his next list: everything he needed to learn to help win the war. The first item was easy – he needed the potions book that hid the Trace so he could practice over the summers. But how was he going to get it? The first possible solution was to tell Fred and George about the potion and then stand back – he was sure they'd stop at nothing to get their hands on it. But then he would need to explain how he knew about the potion, a tricky proposition for a ten-year-old boy who spent the majority of his time cooped up at the Burrow.

Hermione was sure she'd seen a copy at Grimmauld Place before his mum had hidden away all the "unsavory" books she could find in the library, but he couldn't get to Grimmauld Place until Sirius broke out of Azkaban…

Ron's thoughts and quill shuddered to a halt. _Wormtail!_

Percy had given the rat to Ron on his last birthday, no doubt thinking a rat wasn't a very dignified pet for a student that wanted to be Head Boy some day. Even now, Wormtail spent the majority of his time sleeping on Ron's bed. Ron shuddered – he wasn't sure which thought was more disgusting: a Dark wizard being close enough to strike him at any time… or a grown man sleeping in boys' beds.

Ron kept himself from turning around from his desk and grabbing the traitorous rat with a wrench of effort. Instead he laid aside the roll of parchment with his truncated list of things he needed to do an learn, and laid a fresh roll on the desk. Across the top he wrote: _Exposing Pettigrew and Freeing Sirius_.

The first problem of course, was exposing Wormtail without giving himself away. Ideally, he should manipulate someone else into revealing Wormtail for him.

The second problem would be to translate Wormtail's capture into Sirius' release. Ron had little faith in the leadership of the Ministry – confronted with evidence of their mistakes, there was no guarantee that they wouldn't just cover the whole thing up, and keep Sirius in Azkaban until he rotted or escaped.

But if Ron could get Wormtail captured in such a way that the Ministry had no choice but to declare Sirius innocent of all the crimes he was put in prison for…

For long minutes there was no sound but the quiet scratching of quill on parchments, interrupted occasionally as Ron stopped to think or put more ink on his quill.

Finally he sat back, and surveyed the parchment. It was covered in his messy scrawl, with multiple crossings-out and arrows from one sentence to another. Sighing, Ron pushed his hair out of his face, not caring that his ink-stained fingers were probably leaving dark smudges on his hair and in his face.

_It can work. Maybe._

It was a simple plan, really. It would take good timing and effort on his part to play a character that would put him beyond suspicion. And Ron would have to wait until the Christmas holidays to expose Wormtail, and it was only late September. What was he going to do with three months – when he was totally forbidden from using magic?

For so long, time had been his enemy, an elusive quarry that he always needed more of. There was never enough time to plan, to train, to _sleep_. Now he had weeks and weeks, and he couldn't do anything useful. It was maddening.

It would also be nice to have a chance to rest, to wake up and not wonder if he would survive to see the sun set.

Sighing, Ron moved to a new piece of parchment and continued to list all the things he thought he needed to know and facts about the future that he thought might be important. He wrote steadily, terrified that he would forget something important if he didn't put it to paper.

Ron put down his quill when he noticed the sky outside his window being to lighten. He surveyed the parchment littered across the surface of his desk, shaking his cramped fingers as he did so. He had written down every significant event from his school years that he could remember, and many that probably weren't significant. Hopefully somewhere in his notes there was the information to defeat You-Know-Who.

He stacked the parchment into a large pile and hid it under the loose floorboard, carefully making sure the trashcan covered it and didn't look like it had been moved. Satisfied, Ron went off to shower, surprised that he wasn't more tired.

He met his mother on the stairs as she was climbing up, probably to check on him before getting started on breakfast.

"Ron! What are you doing up so early? Are you feeling all right?" She grabbed his chin and gently turned his face from side to side. She must have seen something worrying, because her voice grew sharp. "How long have you been up?"

Figuring the truth wouldn't hurt, Ron replied, "A few hours, I guess."

"So you decided to write a book, then?" Molly replied, voice still sharp.

"Er, I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep."

Molly's eyes softened and she released his chin. "Oh, Ron. I didn't know you still kept your journal."

Ron blushed, remembering the times the twins had found his diary and used it to embarrass him horribly, culminating in an incident at dinner over the summer break and a lot of treacle tart. After that he had given up on the diary, an in general not writing anything personal on paper that could be used against him. Later, when Hermione would nag him to study or work on an essay, Ron would blame the treacle incident for his reluctance to write. It was a weak excuse, but then it was a very humiliating memory.

"I didn't want anyone to know about it." Ron muttered. He should probably start a diary again and leave it where his mum could find it if she went looking.

Molly sniffed, no doubt also remembering the treacle (she had refused to make any treacle tart for a year afterwards). "Well, hop in the shower and I'll have some breakfast for you when you come downstairs." She turned and started back down the stairs, leaving Ron feeling relieved in her wake.

Molly Weasley had always been able to tell when he was hiding something. A bad mood, an upcoming prank, a neglected chore, his mum had an uncanny sense for when her children were holding something back. Only the twins were really good at sneaking around her, but that was probably because they were suspicious all the time and so it was impossible to tell what they were up to at any given moment.

Now, when Ron had the biggest secret of his life to keep, his mum didn't seem to have any inkling of what he was up to. It was understandable; what he had done was unthinkable, and the thought of time travel would never cross his mum's mind. But Ron was so used to her knowing what he was up to that he was honestly surprised when she didn't confront him with his crime.

Ron shrugged, and made his way downstairs to the loo.

**End Chapter 3**


	4. Breakfast and Books

**Raise the Lion Banner**

**Chapter 4 – Breakfast and Books**

By the time Ron was showered and dressed, the delicious smell of cooking bacon was wafting up the stairs. His stomach growled its opinion for anyone to hear, and Ron hastened to obey its command to be fed immediately.

Going down the stairs, he realized that his legs were once again feeling rubbery. He hoped that the weakness wouldn't get too much worse; if him mum thought he was really ill, she might cart him off to St. Mungo's, no matter the expense. Worse, the magical traces of the time-turner magic would still be clear to anyone who knew to look for it. Alternatively Molly might dose him with Strengthening Solution or Pepper-Up Potion – potions Ron had already been taking secretly. At some point his body would have a reaction to too much of the potion in his system and reveal his duplicity.

His only hope was that he wouldn't seem ill enough to require that attention from his mum. It was a long shot; she was notorious for her overprotective tendencies.

Ron poked his head into the kitchen. His mum was there, plating up sausages by the stove. Arthur Weasley was at the table drinking tea and reading _the Daily Prophet_ and Ginny was nowhere to be seen – probably still be sleeping. Ron slid quietly into the seat across from his father and poured himself a cup of pumpkin juice.

Arthur looked up from the _Prophet_ at the noise of the pitcher setting back on the table. "Ron! Heard you had a bit of a scare yesterday, how are you feeling?"

"Better." Ron said, feeling his ears flush in embarrassment.

Arthur set aside the paper and gazed at Ron with a serious expression. "You know, I'm happy to see some honest curiosity about spells but one has to be careful not to jump in over their head, yes? You can seriously hurt yourself and your magic by trying things your body just isn't prepared to handle. I thought you knew that, Ron."

Ron stared at the surface of the table, feeling oddly ashamed. He knew his father didn't really understand what had happened, but his good opinion had always been very important to Ron. A brave Gryffindor who was also as loyal as a Hufflepuff – to violate his father's trust was tantamount to sacrilege.

"I do know Dad, I just…" Ron trailed off, unable to think of a good lie.

"Missing your brothers already? I know it's only mid-September, but the holidays are right around the corner."

"I'm sorry."

"It's perfectly natural to miss them – they're family!" Arthur said cheerfully. "Now, I want you to promise me that you won't try any _advanced _magic again."

Surprised, Ron looked up from the table in time to see his father give him a little wink. Arthur had always been very encouraging to pranks and mischief as long as no one got hurt. It wasn't surprising that he would approve of his children experimenting with simple spells.

Ron gave a little smile. "I promise, Dad."

"Excellent! Now, I don't want to hear any more about it." He picked up the _Prophet_ and went back to reading.

Molly came over and set platters of sausages and toast in the middle of the table and set plates out for the four Weasley's still at the Burrow. She moved back towards the stairs and paused behind Arthur's chair to squeeze his shoulder before leaving the kitchen. A few seconds later Ron heard her on the stairs, calling for Ginny to wake up.

Sunlight filtered through the windows, giving the kitchen a lazy, comforting atmosphere. Arthur hummed tunelessly as he leafed through the _Prophet_, and Ron could hear Ginny's sleepy protests against waking up.

Ron's skin was crawling. To see this, to feel his family at peace, felt _wrong_.

How could he relax, when the last memory he had of his father was stepping in front of a curse meant for his baby sister and then bleeding out at her feet? His mum had kneeled at his head unheeding of the battle raging around her and begged him to open his eyes, while Ginny and Percy guarded her back with tears streaming down their faces. Ron had lunged forward to go to his family, but the battle swirled around him and soon he was too busy fighting for his life back-to-back with Hermione to try and cross the ruined Entrance Hall of Hogwarts. That was the last time he had seen any of his family alive, until yesterday.

Reconciling that gore-filled memory with his father sitting, whole and healthy, at the same table was jarring to say the least. Ron's nerves were stretched, as if he were expecting an attack at any moment. It was absurd and it was giving him a headache. Ron determinedly nibbled on a sausage, trying to quell his anxiety with food.

A few minutes passed before Molly re-entered the kitchen with Ginny trailing grumpily behind her. When Ginny saw Ron her eyes narrowed, but she didn't say anything as she sat down other than a simple "Good morning".

Breakfast passed quietly, which was actually fairly normal for a meal in which the twins were absent (and no one had gotten their mum angry over something). Ron still felt horribly out of place, and Ginny kept sneaking glances at him that promised trouble later. The silence pressed on Ron and he felt exposed, like Filch had just caught him tossing dung bombs in the Great Hall during dinner.

Ron stayed at the table only until Molly stopped piling more food on his plate and then made his escape out to the living room.

_Maybe it's a good thing that I've come so far back in time._ Ron thought. _ There's no way I could handle being at Hogwarts now, or seeing Harry and Hermione. I'd go totally spare._

Quiet sounds of cutlery moving and murmured conversation between Arthur and Molly drifted from the kitchen. Now that Ron was in the next room and by himself, he found the sounds of his family to be soothing instead of stomach-churning; a background hum that said _"peace, peace"_ to his unsettled psyche. The pressure on his chest seemed to ease, and he took a deep calming breath.

Feeling more composed but too weak to escape into the orchard or climb the stairs to his room, Ron ambled over to the bookshelf and looked over the titles. He'd never actually taken the time to look over his father's books, being too young before Hogwarts and too lazy to read when he was home afterwards. A yearly exposure to the study-crazy Hermione had turned him off reading if he could avoid it.

Ron smiled wistfully, thinking of his favorite bushy-haired witch. He wondered how she was doing right now, before she knew anything about the wizarding world. He rather thought she was lonely. Hermione had never shared much about her life before Hogwarts and Ron thought the lack of mention of any muggle friends was telling. Hermione had probably run into the same problem in primary school that she had her first months at Hogwarts – few people looked past the know-it-all bookworm to find the kindhearted girl underneath.

The thought of reading still didn't appeal to Ron, but he knew there were things he needed to learn if he wanted to make any changes. Plus he was so weak right now there wasn't anything else for him to do. Hopefully among his father's books there would be something useful or at least mildly entertaining.

Ron started picking books out at random, looking for any interesting titles. Many of the books were on muggles, which Ron was expecting. What was surprising was the number of books on muggles whose authors we clearly pureblooded – names like Black, Higgs, Hopkirk, Scamander… Ron wondered if those books had _any_ accurate information, especially after he flipped through and saw chapter titles like "Are Muggles Morons?" and "Brute Force: Automobiles are Powered by Pedaling!"

Ron shook his head and tried to put _The Elusive Muggle by Helena Diggle_ back, only to struggle as the book refused to slide back on the shelf. Pulling the book back out, Ron stood on tiptoe to see what was jamming up the space and saw a thin book shoved back behind the other books. Ron pulled it out so he could put Diggle's book away, cursing that he was so short that he couldn't see the high self properly.

The book in Ron's hand was slim and looked pristine, as though it had been a gift Arthur had never opened. The title was _Muggle Weapons and Means of Defense_. Ron's eyebrows went up and he opened up the book to take a closer look. On the inside of the cover was a handwritten note:

_Arthur,_

_I know we haven't talked since school, but I wanted to congratulate you on your promotion to the head of the Department of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. I wrote this book when I realized that adult wizards seem to know less about muggles than muggles do about wizards! I've kept up with my regular studies even though I went to Hogwarts (I'm muggleborn, you know), and I thought this book would be invaluable for research on non-magical means of defense. It's not selling well at all, I blame all the rise of anti-muggle activity and You-Know-Who. At this rate Flourish & Blotts will never agree to a larger printing – at least I never really wanted to be an author, but it would have been a nice way to earn some extra galleons! Anyway, I hope this helps with your new job – watch out for dangerous muggle 'artifacts'._

_ - Sam Boggs_

Ron gave a low whistle. _This might be useful. Maybe there's something I can practice when I can't do magic, and if it's really effective it might be something we can use against You-Know-Who._

Ron shoved the book in his pocket, sure that the title would upset his mum if she saw it – he could look at it in the privacy of his room later and his dad would never miss it. He went back to examining the bookshelf, and picked out one more book on muggles that looked reliable, _Muggle Inventions of the Last Century_. That one he put on a nearby table – it would be safe to read downstairs.

On the rest of the shelves the only book that caught his interest was _Chess Strategy, Combat Strategy_, which joined _Muggle Weapons_ in his pocket. The rest of the books were nothing special, but the old schoolbooks might come in useful for brushing up on his spells and creating a cover for his knowledge when get to Hogwarts. It would have to be enough until he could get to the school library or get some galleons to spend at Flourish & Blotts.

Grinning slightly at the thought of attempting to overcome his ingrained apathy towards reading (and learning in general), Ron sank into an overstuffed armchair and opened _Muggle Inventions_ to the first chapter: "Muggles Stand on the Shoulders of Giants (Figuratively Speaking) - The Lasting Effects of the Industrial Revolution". It was surprisingly good, written as a funny narrative instead of a long list of names and descriptions and Ron thought he might not perish from the boredom of enforced idleness in the days of recovery he needed to endure.

A quarter hour passed peacefully with Ron in the living room and his sister and parents in the kitchen. Arthur came to check on Ron before he left for work, and was shocked nearly speechless to see his son engrossed in a book – a book on muggles no less.

"Ron! I had no idea you were interested in muggles!" Arthur exclaimed.

"Er," Ron said, "Well, it's more interesting than reading about spells I can't practice or anything." He gestured at the bookshelves full of old schoolbooks.

"I suppose so." Arthur said affably. "Well, I'm off to work. Maybe I'll see something in the office worth bringing home to show you. Those muggles think up the most ingenious things." Arthur gently slapped his son's shoulder and went back to the kitchen. Ron heard him say goodbye to Molly and Ginny and leave the house, and then a distant _crack_ as he apparated away.

Ron hoped that his father wouldn't think that he was planning on studying muggles when he grew up. Arthur was usually so gentle that it would be torture to let him down. But the Weasley household really did lack for interesting books. Bill and Charlie had taken most of theirs with them when they left home, and Ron knew Percy's books were all about getting ahead which would be tedious at best. Too bad Ron wouldn't see his oldest brothers until Christmas, no doubt they could find him something _useful_…

An idea occurred to Ron, and he realized that he knew the perfect way to kick off his plan to expose Wormtail and free Sirius. The first step in his plan had always been the vaguest, but he just needed to keep reading where everyone could see him. It was a perfect cover, and for it to work Ron would have to become a bit of a bookworm.

He made a face at the thought of months of diligent attention to books, but returned to _Muggle Inventions_ with renewed vigor.

Not long after Arthur left Ron heard someone else come into the living room. Looking up, Ron was surprised to see Ginny standing right in front of him with her hands on her hips.

"H-hi Ginny." Ron said. He looked at her in some alarm – she had a gleam in her eye that usually meant trouble for whoever had the misfortune to piss her off. Ron frantically searched the memories of his younger self, wondering if he had played any pranks on her recently.

Ginny leaned in close, and what she whispered next nearly made his heart stop. "I know something big happened yesterday, and we're going to talk about it _very_ soon." She gave him a sunny smile that did nothing to hide the intensity of her gaze, then backed off and went upstairs.

Ron gulped. What on earth was he going to tell Ginny?

**End Chapter 4**

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**Notes:** Real Life interfered (as it will continue to do, I'm sure) with getting this chapter done, but I also ran into a bit of a block getting through the kitchen scene. Hopefully future chapters will get finished faster, but I make no promises.

I know a huge cliché of time-travel fics is the traveler gets their hands on some books, study a lot, and then become super-intelligent. That is NOT my plan, as it would totally go against Ron's character. But I think it is feasible that he would make a good faith effort to learn more because of the pressure of knowing that the war against Voldemort can be lost. Plus there's his plan to expose Pettigrew…


	5. Partial Truths

**Raise the Lion Banner**

**Chapter 5 – Partial Truths**

Ron avoided talking to Ginny about what had happened for over a week. At first it was dead easy; for several days Ron was too weak to do much more than sit on the living room couch and read or listen to Ginny go through her pre-Hogwarts lessons with Molly. He even dozed off several times a day for embarrassing (but healing) naps. Since Molly was always nearby – teaching, cooking, knitting, or the thousand other mysterious things mothers so – Ginny never had a chance to talk to him in private.

It was obviously quite frustrating for the young witch, and she was scowling at Ron so much that she was sent out to de-gnome the garden by herself to "get you out of that sulk", as her mother put it. This didn't help her mood at all and Ron was concerned that she might try and confront him in front of their parents if pushed too far.

Even so, he still couldn't talk to her privately when he was better because as soon as he was well enough to get off the couch Molly gave him a list of chores to fill his afternoons as punishment for nicking her wand and "pulling a ridiculous stunt with it, honestly!" He was given plenty of time to rest and no chore was too strenuous for him, but it still took him days to get through the whole list under her watchful eye. Weekday mornings were of course devoted to the pre-Hogwarts lessons on reading, writing, and arithmetic that he and Ginny did together, which Ron found quite boring but managed to get through without suspicion by being even lazier and sloppier about it than normal.

He probably would have been done with the chores sooner, but his mum unfortunately overheard him muttering to himself as he painted the shed that she should be glad Ron had acted up because the twins weren't around anymore and the punishment chores were piling up. This earned him several more items on the list for his cheek.

Finally, Ron finished his punishment and was allowed to do whatever he wanted in the afternoons again. That day Ginny announced at lunch that she wanted to play hide and seek with him in the orchard, and the look she gave him said quite clearly what would happen if he didn't go with her.

Ron gulped nervously and tried his best not to choke on the sandwich that had turned to ashes in his mouth. He had thought long and hard during his punishment period about what he could tell her (manual labor was good for freeing up your mind to mull over problems). He had decided on a plan, but wasn't sure if Ginny would buy it.

He was a terrible liar, and so had decided to tell Ginny the truth… mostly. If she pushed too hard Ron would have to tell her the whole truth anyway, and if he didn't phrase it right she would believe him even if he described every memory of the future that he had.

After they had finished lunch and cleaned their dishes, Ron and Ginny silently walked out of the Burrow together. When they were a good distance away Ginny turned to him with an expectant look. "Well?"

Ron shook his head and lead Ginny further into the orchard. After a few minutes of deliberation he sat down in the shade of a tree in the middle of the orchard in a spot that was too far from the Burrow or the property boundaries for them to be overheard, but where he could see the kitchen door clearly. He didn't want to risk anyone hearing what he was going to say. It was flimsy enough for a nine-year-old to hear, if a grown wizard heard him…

Well, he just couldn't risk being overheard. He had 'accidentally' locked Wormtail in a desk drawer that morning when grabbing parchment for lessons. It wasn't a tactic he could use often, but this particular conversation was too sensitive for Ron to take any chances with the traitorous rat.

Ginny watched Ron with frank curiosity, which was more to his liking than her anger even though it was probably more dangerous. "What is _with _you, Ron?" she asked, "Since when are you so paranoid?"

Ron took a deep breath. _Time to toss the dice, _he thought to himself. "It's hard to explain. And I think it would be really, really bad if anyone else found out."

Ginny rolled her eyes, and Ron decided she thought he was exaggerating. "Do your best then, and you'd better not lie to me." Ginny sat with her back to a tree and Ron followed suit, careful to keep the kitchen door in his line of sight.

Ron had a number of half-truths he could tell his sister, but how much of the truth she got would depend on her. "What did you see last week?"

The question surprised her; she had probably thought he would start stammering excuses right away. "We were running," Ginny began slowly, "and I looked back to see how close you were. Something flew _into_ you, and you collapsed. I thought you were possessed by a ghost or something!" her eyes were a bit wild, as if the memory terrified her.

Well, that decided it. He couldn't risk her thinking he might be possessed. Ron pulled a small penknife out of his robes. "What do you know about blood oaths?" he asked his sister.

She blinked at the apparent _non sequitor_, "Er, I know the penalty for breaking it's really bad. It drains some of your magic if you break it, right?"

Ron nodded. "It's also the only binding oath I know that doesn't need a wand." Ginny nodded her understanding. "This is really serious Ginny, and I can't tell you everything." He drew the knife across his palm, just hard enough to make it bleed. "But I need you to believe me, and this is the only way."

It was time to toss the dice. Letting a few drops of blood drip on the ground, Ron said the ritual words softly. "I swear by blood and by magic that I will not knowingly lie to my sister until this conversation is over."

A soft light sprung up around them, reflecting in Ginny's wide eyes. "Ron!" she hissed, "This is so dangerous! Mum will kill you if she finds out!"

"I know." Ron said simply. He was walking a very fine line, and there was a good chance Ginny would ask a question he couldn't dodge, and everything would come out. But it was more important that she promise not to tell anyone what had happened.

Best to get it over with quickly. "I saw the future, or at least a possible future." He stated. It was the simple truth, he did _see_ all of it.

Ginny gasped. "How? What happens?"

Ron ignored her first question. "You-Know-Who came back. He k-killed a lot of people."

"What about the Ministry? What about _Harry Potter_?"

This young, her crush on the Boy-Who-Lived was still going strong. Ron might have laughed at the hope in Ginny's voice if thoughts of Harry didn't take him to very dark memories. "He died." Ron whispered, "They all died. We came so close… But he won. And now I have to fix it." Ron's voice broke in the middle but he didn't notice, too caught up in his misery to care.

For long minutes neither of them spoke. Finally Ginny broke the silence. "Do… do you think you'll get more visions?"

"I doubt it," Ron said, skirting close to the edge of the truth by not denying Ginny's assertion that he had a vision as opposed to, you know, living it. "I think it was some kind of one-time thing."

"Right then." Ginny whispered, almost to herself. She shook herself. "Right," she repeated briskly, "so what are we going to do to fix it?"

Ron quirked an eyebrow. "We?" He was thankful that Ginny seemed to believe him, and very lucky that she was too young to know any of the conventional wisdom about seers and visions.

"Like I'm going to let you run around doing Merlin-knows-what all by yourself." She sniffed at him.

Ron opened his mouth to object that it was much too dangerous for her to be involved, but Ginny cut him off. "And don't say I can't! I'm only a year younger than you are, and this is too important to just… pretend like it isn't happening!" She lifted her chin defiantly, and for an instant Ron saw the courageous young woman she would become.

Ron mentally shrugged. It was past time for him to stop thinking of Ginny as a tag-along, or a delicate sister he had to protect. She had proved too many times that she was perfectly capable. If Ginny was willing to believe and help him then he wasn't going to look a gift hippogriff in the mouth. "There isn't a lot we can do until we go to Hogwarts." He told his sister. "We can't do any serious magic without the Ministry knowing and that means we can't really practice magic at all."

Furrowing her brow, Ginny said. "_Why_ can't the Ministry know about you vision? They could do so much more than we could to fix things."

Yet another precarious topic. Ron chose his words carefully. "Ginny, the Ministry is almost totally controlled by Death Eaters that lied to stay out of Azkaban. If they suspected that I knew about the future and was working against them; at best I would be locked up in the Department of Mysteries until they knew everything I know. At worst…" Ron couldn't say the worst: he would be executed for illegal time-travel, probably after Lucius Malfoy had sucked out all his memories for his own personal gain.

"There has to be something. An anonymous letter to somebody."

"To who? And using what owl? Errol's not exactly suited for secret letters." Ron knew he was being harsh, but in his opinion the sooner Ginny realized how cautious they had to be the better.

"Are you saying there is _nothing_ we can do?" Ginny bit her lip.

"There is one thing." Everything he had told Ginny up to now had been general, but this would test Ginny's resolve. "Do you know what an animagus is?"

Ginny shook her head. "I think I remember the twins talking about it once, but they just said it would be too hard to do until they were out of Hogwarts."

"An animagus is a wizard that can transform into one animal, with or without a wand."

"Wow." Ginny said softly, her eyes bright with thought. "What does that have to do with… You-Know-Who?"

"Scabbers is an animagus, a Death Eater."

Ginny reacted with predictable revulsion. "WHAT?!" She shifted as if she wanted to leap to her feet.

"Shhh! Keep it down!" Ron glanced anxiously towards the Burrow, but there was no sign of their mum coming to see what the commotion was.

"Fine!" Ginny hissed, settling back. "But why haven't you turned him in already?"

"And how would I explain how I knew?" Ron asked, fighting to keep his voice level. "Excuse me Mr. Auror, but I think my rat is secretly an evil wizard, could you arrest him please?"

Ginny huffed in exasperation. "All right, what are you planning?"

"Well, we need to reveal him without looking like we're revealing him. And we need to reveal it to the public or the Ministry might just make him 'disappear' to hide their mist- embarrassment." Ron stumbled over the last word, not wanting to bring up Sirius Black just yet. If Ginny knew his ultimate plan was to free Harry Potter from his muggle relatives and get him into the wizarding world then she might forget all about caution.

If Ginny noticed his stutter she gave no sign. "So, what do we do?"

Ron held up his hand and pressed the now-scabbed cut on his palm. "The conversation is done, the oath is fulfilled." He intoned. The barely-noticeable glow around them faded and the cut on Ron's handed faded to a fine white scare.

Ron shrugged at Ginny's raised eyebrow. "I don't plan on lying to you, I just don't want to make a mistake and lose my magic."

The siblings sat under the tree for most of the afternoon plotting Wormtail's capture. By the time their mum called them in to wash up for dinner, Ron was quite pleased he had confessed to Ginny, even if she didn't know the whole truth yet. 'In the know' or not, Ginny had a devious mind when she really got thinking, and she had helped modify his plan that he was now almost sure that it would work.

But they still had to wait until Christmas.

As Ron got ready for bed, he realized that he felt better about telling Ginny for another reason – he wasn't alone on his quest now. Even if she didn't know everything, he could share information with Ginny, work with her to prevent You-Know-Who's victory. Ron may have been a Gryffindor, but he hadn't been looking forward to trying to work everything out on his own. It was a huge weight off his chest to share the burden, no matter the risk.

**End Chapter 5**

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**Notes:** A quick response to Daiymo no Tashio's review (not to single you out but because it addresses some of my goals and inspirations for this fic) – I am a huge fan of Nightmare's of Futures Past, it's by far my favorite Harry Potter fanfiction. However, some of the elements of it are clichés of the time-travel story – overdone to the point of absurdity. I'd rather not write a cookie-cutter time-travel fic with a different face when there are already excellent examples out there. Plus my traveler simply isn't suited for some of those tropes – Ron doesn't have the galleons or the lack of supervision to go buy all the equipment he needs to hunt horcruxes or do underage magic, for instance. He's going to have to come up with something else entirely.

Regarding the nightmares specifically: as I alluded to in chapter 2 (planning a 3-year jump to the summer after 5th year), it had only been about a year from Harry's death to Ron's time travel. Also, what makes you think my Ron fought a war at all similar to S'Tarkan's Harry? Consider it part of the mystery of what happened after Voldemort & Harry's final duel. :)

As for the short chapters… if I try and make them longer they don't get written. It's short or nothing, I'm afraid.


	6. What Should We Be Doing?

**Raise the Lion Banner**

**Chapter 6 – What Should We Be Doing?**

For the next several weeks Ron didn't try and make any preparations beyond making sure he read within sight of his mother for at least an hour each afternoon.

He'd quickly finished _Muggle Inventions_, and the last chapters we a true eye-opener to him – it was team-written by a muggleborn and her wizarding-raised husband and they had managed to both explain muggle's advances simply enough for a wizard to understand and to explain them _correctly,_ something he knew was rare in the magical world.

He'd never really thought about how muggles got along without magic. When his dad talked about them, it was always in the tone of an indulgent parent and not the real amazement Ron felt after reading about airplanes and computers. After finishing the book on inventions Ron was actually anxious to start the book on muggle weapons hidden in his room. If he could find something in there that he could use, the Death Eaters would never see it coming.

Unfortunately Ron was too afraid to read it when his mum might see it, so when he finished with _Muggle Inventions_ he moved on to the old school books Bill & Charlie left behind (the ones that weren't currently being used by Percy and the twins). He always took several of the textbooks off the shelf and tried to let his mum only see the 1st year titles, but was secretly searching the upper year Charms and Transfiguration books for one very specific spell that he was going to need come Christmastime. A side benefit was that he got a very good review of the Hogwarts curriculum, though he didn't appreciate it at the time.

As per their plan to capture Wormtail, Ron had Ginny convince Molly to let her use their old camera and persuaded Ginny to give everyone the impression that she loved photography. He also asked Molly to cast an Unbreakable charm on the rarely-used cage for Scabbers, saying he wanted a safe place to put him so that he wouldn't get accidentally injured by someone sitting on him or something.

His mum had ruffled his hair affectionately and cast the charm for him, saying she was glad was thinking of his pet's safety. What she didn't know was that he had kept the rat animagus in the cage constantly after that. In Ron's mind, the risk of his behavior seeming odd was far outweighed by the risk of Wormtail escaping. Keeping him securely locked up was the only way Ron could keep himself from killing the traitor.

Despite Ron's warning about caution, Ginny was anxious to do more to get ready for the troubles ahead. She demanded that they had to prepare, and Ron was hard-pressed to counter her arguments.

"I mean honestly Ron, are you more worried about not being found out or are you just being lazy?" She hissed at him in the orchard one day.

"I'm NOT- we have to be careful!" Ron spluttered. He flushed though, because he had been luxuriating in the peaceful days at the Burrow. As more time passed from Ron's jump to the past, it was easier and easier for him to bury himself in his life at the Burrow. Mostly because it was amazing to see his family alive again (all right, so he hadn't actually seen his older brothers, but he _knew_ they were alive and that was enough for him), but also because he was consciously focusing on his "younger" self's memories he could avoid stewing over his bleak memories from his "older" self.

But it also meant that Ron had almost deliberately lost his sense of urgency. Combined with his natural tendency to coast (he retained enough maturity to at least admit that), Ron _had_ been lazy for the past few weeks. It was one thing to acknowledge his youth and inability to leave the Burrow or do serious magic, it was quite another to revert to his childlike refusal to prepare for anything. Especially when he knew how badly things could go wrong.

Ginny saw Ron's flush and moved in for the kill. "I know we're young. I know we can't do magic yet. But if we don't start to get ready now it's like we're just sitting and waiting for You-Know-Who to take over! If you saw him win, then that means that we can't sit back and hope that adults will take care of us until we're grownups."

Ron's jaw dropped. Since he had sort-of confessed his secret to Ginny he hadn't seen any more flashes of maturity from her, and had started to revert back to thinking of her just as his little sister. Clearly though, Ginny had been spending her time thinking about what Ron's "vision" meant, and had come to some conclusions that were very mature for her age.

In the face of that, Ron could only acquiesce, hanging his head. "You're right, Ginny."

"Of course I'm right," said Ginny with a roll of her eyes, "Honestly Ron, I know you mean well but you're so used to..."

"Being a kid?" Ron asked her sarcastically.

Ginny blushed lightly. "I know it's rich for me to be yelling at you, but you know what I mean! We should be doing something now, so when we finally get to Hogwarts we can spend time doing something useful instead of playing catch-up in classes."

Ron held up his hands in defeat. "Hey, hey! I already said you were right."

Ginny let out a quick laugh. "But I was working up some good momentum!"

"If you really want you can keep yelling, I'll just be over by the pond." Ron said with a grin, getting up and making as if he would leave her sitting in the shade of the apple tree.

She leapt up and tackled him to the ground. They roughhoused for a minute until Ron finally pinned Ginny and tickled her until she begged for mercy through her shrieking laughter.

"Victory is mine!" Ron declared, rolling off Ginny and raising his hands in celebration.

"Get you… for that… later!" Ginny gasped out through her giggles.

Ron turned his nose up and attempted a Malfoy impersonation (not that Ginny would recognize it, of course) and sniffed loftily. "I'm sure."

Ginny giggled again and threw a clump of grass at his head.

They lay on the grass in companionable silence for several minutes. Ron stared up at the leaves of the tree above him and was forcibly reminded of the day he came back in time, lying helplessly on the grass and waiting for Ginny to help him.

_When was the last time I was happy, back then… up then in the future? _ Ron wondered to himself. _Sixth year, probably. Maybe Bill's wedding, before we had to run._

It was no wonder Ron had been goofing off, really, when he was finally happy for the first time in ages. Still, that was no excuse for slacking.

Ron rolled over at stared at Ginny, who had started to plait grass stems together with a pensive look on her face. "What do you think we should do to be getting ready?" He asked her, curious about what she might come up with.

Ginny kept braiding, but her eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Well, I think I should start looking at our brother's old textbooks with you." She said slowly. "I can't practice, but I can learn the theory really well."

"Maybe we can get Mum to show us how to do the wand movements properly and practice with sticks or something." Ron suggested. He could tutor Ginny himself on the more basic stuff, but that would be suspicious. Plus, he knew he wasn't the most patient and would have a hard time coaching Ginny through the finicky process of precise wandwork.

"Hmm." Ginny said. "Too bad there's no practice wands out there, that would light up when you said the word right and made the right movement."

"Who would buy them though?" Ron asked.

"Oh, I would!" Ginny declared. "Think about it, then students could practice spells over the holidays without breaking the rules."

"Now I really wonder why no one's made one yet." Ron admitted.

"We should get Fred and George on it!" Ginny declared happily. "They can make _anything_!"

Ron smiled at Ginny's faith in the twins. And she didn't even know how inventive they could _really_ be.

"We can write them a letter." Ron offered. "Maybe they'll be so inspired they'll make us some for Christmas."

Ginny snorted. "Hah! Knowing them they'll blow up in our faces or something."

"That would be like them." Ron said with a laugh.

Ginny rolled onto her stomach and propped herself on her elbows, looking at Ron seriously. "We need to learn how to duel." She said, changing the conversation abruptly.

"No." Ron said. Ginny gave him an incredulous look, "Wait, let me explain!" He said, and Ginny settled, still looking at him like he'd swallowed a Babbling Drought. "Dueling is… knowing the rules, and a lot of fancy spellwork. It's not very practical. If I'm right…" Ron swallowed, thinking of the 'duels' he had been in, "We'll never be fighting like that. We'll be fighting people that know so much more than us that we'd never stand a chance if we fought like real duelers. We'll be running, throwing spells from hiding places, taking on groups by ourselves. Dueling won't teach us how to do that."

"So we need to learn… strategy?" Ginny asked.

"Not right away, I guess." Ron said. "We'd never be able to really teach ourselves anyway. I think we should learn how to run, how to hide from each other, how to _track_ each other."

"Like playing Hide-and-Seek? Ron, be serious!"

Ron was tempted to make a Sirius joke, but Ginny wouldn't have understood. "Think about it Ginny, if we got really good at sneaking around, at sneaking up on people! We'll never be able to _know_ more than the adults, but we could be much, much better at what we do know. And it's something we can practice without making Mum suspicious."

Comprehension dawned on Ginny's face. "Oh! And we can make it more complicated too. Like… taking the bean bags and putting chalk on them – then we can throw them at each other like spells!"

"Brilliant, Ginny!"

"And… And… We can start running every day, so we'll be really good at that too." Ginny said enthusiastically.

At that, Ron groaned. When Ginny poked him in the ribs he waved her away irritably. "That's a good idea too, I know. It's just…"

"A lot like work?" She asked archly.

Ron stuck his tongue out at her. "Fine, fine." He sighed.

They spent the rest of the afternoon planning their "training" schedule. First off, they'd try and convince their mum to add pronunciation and wand-handling to their morning lessons. They'd run in the mornings before breakfast (a prospect Ron agreed to unwillingly – he hating waking up early), play their modified games of Hide-and-Seek for part of the afternoon, and study the first-year textbooks just before or after dinner. Ron promised to help Ginny with that, as he'd already reread the books. It would give him a good excuse to look through the more advance books as well – he could say Ginny had asked him a question or that he wanted to stay ahead of her.

After their planning session Ron felt much better. It wasn't the intensive training that they probably needed, but it was the best they could do. Plus, as Ron kept reminding himself, Ginny really was still a child. As much as he needed and wanted her help, there was no way he was going to try and turn her into a soldier. They would just have to muddle through as well as they could and wait for Hogwarts.

That evening, Molly Weasley found them huddled over a piece of parchment at the kitchen table, whispering back and forth while Ron wrote.

"What on earth are you two up to?" She asked.

"We're writing to Fred and George, mum!" Ginny said cheerfully. "We miss them, you know."

Molly narrowed her eyes slightly, not fooled by Ginny's innocent look. "I hope you two aren't planning any mischief."

"Of course not, mum!" Ron said indignantly. "If we were planning trouble we certainly wouldn't be _cooperating_."

Well, that did make sense. Her two youngest tended to only prank each other and wisely left their parents unscathed.

"Hm." Was Molly's response. She went to the living room to listen to the wireless with Arthur, shaking her head as the children tried to muffle their snickers.

"Well?" Arthur asked as he wife settled next to him on the couch.

"They're writing to the twins." Molly told him.

"Ah." Arthur paused. "Do you think we should be worried?"

"Possibly, possibly."

They listened to the wireless in silence after that, only looking at each other with slightly nervous smiles when they heard more laughter from the kitchen.

**End Chapter 6**

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**Notes:** Arg, this chapter was a beast. Necessary, but sort of a filler chapter. That and academics is the reason for lateness. I'll attempt to be more timely.


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